Crowdsourcing Stories

Just Another Teen Werewolf Romance Ch. 1

The night air crackled with excitement as dozens of guests mulled about the large estate. Gentlemen dressed in their finest suits mingled in the hopes of future connections, whether business or personal. A rainbow of chittering, gowned ladies accompanied their gentlemen before splitting off to find their own entertainment.
"Mr. Quinley hardly ever hosts such events. How well connected is she to gain the lord's favor?"
"I heard she is but the daughter of a lowly craftsman."
"No way! You must be mistaken."
"Not at all, I swear it..."
Damaris Orren turned from the idel gossip, thankful to be separated from the gathering crowd by a distance, and obscured from view by a crimson curtain. She wasn't ready to face the throngs of judgemental socialites. Returning to her guest room she plopped down on the corner of the bed, sighing as she sank into it's down embrace.
"It's nice to see the bed is to your liking" a gentle baratone announced the arrival of her benefactor.
"Mr. Quinley, isn't it considered inappropriate for a man to enter a lady's room unannounced?"
"To me you'll always be not but a wee lass, my dear. Now, drop this formality. Uncle Quinley demands his hug" He chuckled as he approached, arms outstretched to accept his embrace. Damaris giggled as she avoided his reach.
"Tsk tsk, what would Mrs. Quinley say?"
"She'd say 'You best not be stealing a hug before mine', and you know it well."
"Ey, I would."
Both debutante and lord froze as the heavyset woman leaned against the frame, her arms crossed over her hefty bosom.
"Auntie!" Damaris throws herself at the Duchess, beaming like a child as ample arms encircled her shoulders.
"There there, Dearie."
A sigh of relief escaped her lips as she relaxed into the motherly embrace, the soft caress of a middle-aged hand against her hair soothing her anxious thoughts.
"Not fair" came the playfull pout from the Duke as he watched on jealously at the show of affection between the women. His sour face did not last, however, as he burst into a grin and wrapped his arms around the women, lifting them from the carpeted floor. They shrieked with laughter as the Duke spun them around until they demanded he put them right.
Mrs. Quinley smoothed down her ruffled skirts as they all caught their breaths. A wrap of knuckles on the doorframe drew the attention of the room to a tall figure who smirked at the jovial display of familiarity. His square chin peppered with stubble and slicked back raven hair made him conventionally handsome but what made him attractive was the genuine smile that always accompanied a teasing quip.
"Room for one more?"
"Kalin Quinley, you bring that rump on over here" Damaris beamed and motioned for the eldest son to join them. "Where is Chay? How did you manage to separate her from your ankle?"
"Ha. Ha." He pulled her in for a side hug. Damaris felt her face flush, the warmth of him against her sent tingles of electricity down her side and sparked a small hope inside her heart that he may be her mate.
"Chay is getting ready, just as a certain chit I know should be." His crooked grin appeared as she glared at him, beating her palms against his broad chest.
"Like you're one to speak! You aren't so much older then I am."
"Ow. Ow, stop it" he snickered in mock pain.
"Now, now. Quit that silly squabbling" Mrs. Quinley chastised as she separated them "Dami is becoming a woman, we should treat her as such." She shot a telling glance at her husband before gently pushing the men toward the door.
"Now, if you don't mind, it is time for the guest of honor to get prepared for the exhibition."
As the men reluctantly abided Kalin grinned, wiggling his eyebrows at them as the door closed. This won him a giggle from Damaris as she watched after him.
"That one is not but bother, I tell you."
"I find his shenanigans quite charming."
Mrs. Quinley moved to the armour, busying herself by shuffling through the various gowns. Manifesting a cobalt green gown that she gingerly aranged on the mattress.
"Ey, charming they may be, deary, but not often do we choose who is fated to us." A distant look of regret clouded the older woman's eyes as she fussed with the hem.
"What ever do you mean, aunty?"
"Oh, never you mind, my sweet. Let's get you ready, it wouldn't do to miss your own ball."
Despite her words, Mrs. Quinley's grin did not appear to hold it's usual sincerity. Damaris frowned, a sense of something left unspoken raising the fine hairs on the back of her neck. She wanted to ask but as she was about to voice her concerns a soft knock and feminine whisper announced the arrival of the attendants. At the Duchess' call a group of three maids entered with heads bowed. She recognized each one from countless visits to the estate. Waving she caught the attention of the youngest of the maids, a modest brunette, who shot her a quick smile before wordlessly getting to her duties.
"I'll leave you in their capable hands. Kalin will be here to accompany you to the presentation shortly." Mrs. Quinley headed for the door, pausing a second "oh, and sweety, you'll be great out there."
The door closed behind her and the maids began discussing hairstyles and accessories but Damaris wasn't listening. For a moment the brief absence of the Quinley's filled her with dread, though she couldn't explain it. Silently she convinced herself it was simply nerves, but the sense of foreboding remained with her all through her dressing.